All The Places I'll Go With You
by Gothic Cheerleader
Summary: Brittany is on vacation with her family in Paris and misses Santana terribly - but she may have found a way to enjoy a day trip alone in the city...


**A/N :** _story beta'd by lajeunefilleenfleur - thank you again, I never would have posted this if you didn't correct my many mistakes_

I took the afternoon to wander in the city.

I told my family I wanted to walk by myself and find my way back home – my mom gasped and my uncle gave me a French cell, just in case I needed to look at the map online or reach them.

"If you see a street that looks like a freeway, turn around and walk in the other direction, all right?"

Actually, I was just missing you. It's been twelve days and I was almost aching this morning when I woke up from the lack of you. Oh, what you do to me…

So I took off early – you should have seen everyone's faces, still in their pajamas, sitting in front of a continental breakfast when I entered the room showered and fully dressed (well, as dressed as I can manage, you know me and my case of pants anxiety). My mom's jaw dropped in shock and my dad asked if I had seen his daughter Brittany because maybe I was an alien who took possession of her. My dad doesn't get yet that before ten am his jokes aren't funny to anyone, not even my little sister, who hadn't looked up from her bowl of cereal.

I had been ready for almost an hour and, thank you jet lag for messing with my sleeping schedule, so I was set to go at nine.

When they finally let me go, I put on my sunglasses and went straight for the subway station accross the street – I'd been researching the areas in the center of the city during sleepless nights and I knew exactly where I would start: The Grande Galerie de l'Evolution.

I don't really like the subway – it smells and it's full of rude people. Everything seem really grey to me in this world underground. Hopefully I'd only have a couple stations to go.

Okay, that one was just for me – I have a lot of other places on my map (yes, I have a map, you'd be proud of me).

When I was finished looking at all the stuffed animals - like a giant parade of all race and kind except none of them were alivne, walking side by side, the lions and the antilopes and the hyenas, even birds, turtles and big fishes, but if the Lion King spoke any truth, they may indeed not eat each other because I was under the impression that they were're only here to show the circle of life; I looked for a lion prince but found none so I tried to sing and people kept glaring eyeing me suspiciouslyat me and you weren't there to squeeze my hand and let me know it was okay so I stopped.

It was around noon already and I checked my phone for any messages from you (but it was still so early, I knew you'd still be asleep) – I had three missed calls from my mom and a few texts from my dad, the last one asking if I was still alive (already, a little after noon – not funny). I took a moment to answer them and decided to walk from here on out – the subway is confusing here. I stared at the map they gave me at the station, but I couldn't understand a single thing : why are there white dots when two lines meet instead of a mix of the colors ? It only makes me confuse one dot for another and yesterday we got lost following my directions – who knew the pink line and the orange line would meet where the light green goes too? I was sure we were already on the red one when we got to the wrong station. My sister was furious because she wanted to see those tall buildings, even grayer than the ones we have in the US – what is so cool about a place called the Defense anyway? It only looks like any other Downtown district – we made it another day – and we actually got to see an ancient arena while wandering through the area we reached by mistake, it was so cool, and I'm definitely taking you there.

I crossed the bridge and decided to take walk on the dock and follow the Seine.

With the sun warming my back and the blue sky melting with the smell of water, it was beautiful. More beautiful than anything I had seen during this grey morning. I reached for your hand and I suddently remembered you weren't with me – I had been talking to you in my head all morning long, commenting the obvious at the museum and imagining how you would respond – you always tell me when I stare too long at useless things, but I'm sure you'd have liked the butterflies as much as I did; there was one with flashing colors, I took pictures of it but it never really matched how I was seeing it and you would have said that it's one of those "favorite memoryies for the mind only". You're always on my mind, though, so can I add you as one of those? I can't never really snap a picture of the spark in your eye when you look at me and you are definitely my favorite memory of all time.

I felt really sad all of a sudden. I didn't really know what I was doing in France – why was I so far away from you ?

Then it hit me – I could be the advance man (or woman). It was my chance to discover places I could show you later. Maybe add some colors to my shaddowed vision. You'll take me to Paris one day, right, San?

So I dried my tears under my sunglasses with the back of my thumb and walked for a long time until I found this big cathedral that my cousin had showed me a few days ago. We didn't go any further the other day, even though the streets seemed pretty with old buildings made of stone and a little park going all the way behind Notre Dame. It was late and she was already annoyed with me even if it had only been two days since we arrived. Sometimes I don't get what she is about. French people are weird, San; they never smile and they never stop to help you and look at the map with you. You'd really like that, though, I know you were angry at the man who helped you find your way in New York last time but it would have helped me a lot today.

I got to the front of the church and my stomach started growling with hunger so I lost my way trying to find something to eat – that's where I found it, our first stop when you take me here again: they make Turkish sandwiches and it's maybe the best thing I've ever eaten. I took a picture of the restaurant and the name of the street so I'm sure I'll know how to take you there.

(You might find it gross, though. It was a little gross, but it tasted so good! And the guy who served me talked to me. He was the first person who did, and you can give him credit for some of the places I'll take you because he gave me directions when I left. I know I want to come back and say thanks).

The guy told me to go straight and across the bridge again. I lost count of how many times I walked over the Seine that day. I started getting overwhelmed when I realized I didn't know how to come back to my uncle's place, but then I ran into this big building and I heard a group of teenagers speaking English. There was this girl who looked a little like you (I almost pounced on her but then she turned around and I didn't – I got sad because I thought for a second you had found a way to come and find me).

They were American and they told me a lot about the building. It's the city hall of Paris. They said it's beautiful at night, because of the lights – we're definitely making it one of our stops.

They told me to go on by a little street behind this big store. I took pictures of everything – I'm so afraid I won't be able to remember with you by my side. You know I always get distracted when I have your hand in mine; I'm still so amazed that it's there, and my thoughts don't seem to stay on anything but you. Maybe you won't want to hold my hand here, I don't know, people seem to be okay with it. I haven't seen that many girl-girl couples, but it has to be called the City of Love for something, right?

So I took it, Rue de la Verrerie, and I got to this amazing place – you're going to love it San, there are artists everywhere just like on the foot street we went to when we were young, performers and fake statues and I got really startled when this guy dressed as a robot suddently moved, and everybody laughed and I laughed with them too. They didn't make fun of me, I promise, no need to come back here and kick their asses – we just need to come back here so I can show you.

Then I walked past this weird building – it looks like one of the rooms in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, all red and green and blue tubes and big escalators (I think I want us to go to the top so we can see the city, but you won't want to do that because you're afraid of heights – maybe I'll find a way to convince you anyway, if I kiss you, do you think you could not look down while we're going up ?)

Someone told me it was a museum. I wanted to go inside but I'm saving it for our trip – it's always better when you're there to tell me about the lives of the artists. I love it when you talk like a teacher. You don't make me feel like I'm stupid; you just seem happy to share something you know with me – nobody does that but you.

I was a little hungry again – even though the sandwish was really satisfying, I didn't get any dessert there, and a girl loves her sugar.

And there it was. I don't really know how I managed to see it – it's so tiny and there were so many people. I was going to get a shake in this weird European fast food restaurant (they call it "Quick" – I know, what the hell is with that? I have to ask my dad if he suggested the name, thinking it would be a good joke. Earlier this week I tried to ask a customer if he had eaten quicker than usual but he looked at me frazzled and told me « no english ». They do that a lot – they use our words, pronouce them wrong and don't want to try to speak with people saying them right – how are they going to improve if they don't ?)

Anyway, I wanted a shake, and instead I found a cookie shop. Isn't that cool? And the cookies were delicious. It's called "Laura Todd Cookie," but when I told the waitress to say hi to Sweeney, she looked at me like I'd grown a second head. Maybe she just wasn't Laura. It would have been cool to meet him – maybe next time.

They had white chocolate cookies, my favorite. I bought two, because I always do, and I almost said to the girl who was serving me that _my girlfriend doesn't like the white chocolate ones as much as I do but she always shares with me anyway so I'd rather have some more of that than one I don't like as much,_ but once again, I remembered you weren't there. I ate one right away and tucked the other one in my pocket for later.

After that, it'll be easy: we only have to find one street and we'll be good for a while. Rue Saint Honoré is long, like the streets back home, and there are so many things to see there, Santana!

But the sidewalks are so small, you wouldn't believe it. I made a mental note to let go of your hand when we'll get to this portion of the sidewalk – it's so tiny, I had trouble todidn't have enough space to walk straight when I crossed paths with someone else.

It was the middle of the afternoon and there were still so many people walking on the street – does anybody work in Paris? Or do people just wander all day? That's a job I'd be willing to do, I think, even if I'd rather dance. Maybe I can do both ? And I could write a guide – the streets are so complicated and confusing here – called « how to walk through Paris and not crash into people or starve ». They would need to translate it too, because I heard more foreign Russian and Italian and even Japanese words this afternoon than French. Maybe this part of town is strictly reserved for people who don't speak French. Honestly, I was relieved when the guy in this tiny, tiny grocery store understood that I wanted to buy Diet Coke. He just told me "yes, yes, goodbye" when I asked him if he had a tiny store to match his height, though.

Then the street started to change – you're going to like it so much – and all the stores were full of super-pretty, super-expensive clothes and jewelry – I looked at a couple of things, you would have loved the bracelets and a pair of golden earings, so I took pictures – maybe one day I'll be able to afford it and I'd definitely buy us matching rings from that Cartier shop.

I was almost at the end of Rue Saint Honoré when I randomly turned left and saw this huge book store – and everything was in English inside! So were the people there. This woman with her two kids saw I was a little lost and eyed me for a couple of minute before asking me how I ended up here. She helped me figure out a way back to my uncle's house, wrote it down on my subway map and made me promise to call the store if I was lost. She told me I should check out the park accross the street before I leave. She was going with the kids herself and asked if I would like to join them.

Her name is Carol and she's been in Paris for seven years. At first I told her about my parents and my sister and my cousin who lives in Paris too. Then she told me about herself: she's from Wisconsin and followed someone here, and she said it's the best decision she's ever made.

I was starting to get really tired, and I know you told me I have to be careful about the people I tell about you because people might get nasty, and even if I don't really understand why, I always do what you say, I was too exhausted when someone past by wearing your perfume.

It's always the same : I smell it, usually on you but sometimes on other people, and everything stops. You'd be back from the bathroom when you'd freshen up and put some more on you or you'd just be wearing one of those wool sweater that can keep the smell for days – anyway in my brain it just lights something that translate into "Santana's here" and iIf I'm focused on something I just snap away from it in a fraction of second. I feel it all over my body and I ache to feel you, to touch you –wWhen I feel like this and you're near me, I always reach for you.

It's mostly a quiet happy feeling – knowing you are here or being reminded of you – so I don't usually get overwhelmed this quickly when that happens and you're nowhere near but I had a big day and had just stopped mid-sentence, looking in the direction of the scent.

It was a tall blonde girl, probably a model or something, with endless legs, talking carelessly on the phone in English with a strong accent.

I felt so lost, all of the sudden, and I couldn't help blurting out:

"Santana?"

I put my hand over my mouth, wishing I could unsay it, but Carol was already looking at me curiously. As much as I hoped she'd drop it, she didn't and asked me if I knew the blond girl. I quickly shook my head no.

"Then who are you looking for?" she asked. "Is your cousin named Santana?"

I couldn't really stop what happened next. I'm sorry San, you told me I have to be more cautious, but I hoped Carol would understand. I broke in quiet sobs, speaking slowly so she'd understand me even if I was stammering a little bitbetween quiet sobs:

"San- Santana's my gi- girlfriend," I told her. "She's still in O- hio and I- I miss her so, sooo much."

She stepped closer and began to pat my back.

"Shh," she said. "Oh, sweetie." Then she wrapped me in a tight hug.

We broke apart and she looked at her kids, who had run off to play with other kids in the park. She broke into a little grin. I was confused – it wasn't funny; I was really sad. But then, she told me her story. You're going to love this, San.

When she was twenty-two, she met this girl at college – the girl was just coming to study there for one semester and seemed really shy; she never really talked to anybody. It took a while for her to build the courage to go to her during her lunch break. The thing is, the girl was only nineteen and was a little lost in the middle of the other older students here. She was very smart, Carol told me, and she had graduated in her own university back in France already.

They had very little time together, but she promised to come back to visit the next summer.

They wrote long letters to each other during the months between February and June, when she was supposed to be back, and both of them admitted then in those letters to be in love with the other. When she told me about that summer, she had the biggest smile on her face – I know how that feels; it's how I feel when I'm with you. I was already beginning to smile beneath my tears.

They spent the next two years apart, seeing each other during the little vacations they could afford – that must have been terrible, I couldn't imagine to stay away from you for so long, and just thinking about it made me cry a little more, but I kept quiet; I didn't want Carol to stop talking.

When the girl visited Carol for the last time, seven years ago, they decided they couldn't live apart anymore. Without telling anyone, Carol just left with her. The two kids with her are theirs – and she told me she's never been happier in her life.

I was really smiling by then and I immediately thought, _that could be us_, San.

I told Carol about you and about my day missing you, trying to find places for us to visit together when we'll be in the city. I told her about the stuffed animals and your stubborn need to find your own way, and the sandwich – she made a disgusted face at that one – and the cookies.

I explained how I was trying to be the advance woman for you, so I could share this beautiful place with you, and how I wanted to be able to exchange memories of myself walking in the city thinking of you for actual memories with you.

It's the best way to visit a place I think – when you're with someone you love. Everything seems different. I didn't want you to be frustrated because we'd get lost – instead, I did some work so we could just enjoy it and you could have the same smile on your lips as the one Carol had when she was talking about that first summer.

I told her how, gradually, I started mapping the city in my head, keeping memories of places so I could take you there.

How it made me see everything differently – before, only seeing imperfections and flaws from the ache of not having you walking beside me now, only seeing places I want to show you.

You're everywhere, Santana. You're in the sky, and I hear your voice as I pass the shop windows, snapping at the old man walking slowly by the lingerie, cooing at this little girl who seems to be in trouble with her ice cream. I almost dance as I go down the sidewalk, dreaming of the time you'll actually be here and that'll my dorkiness will make you laugh.

I even see the spark in your eyes as you look at the jewelry in the windows of the Place Vendôme.

I hum happily as I imagine you stealing a kiss as we wait for a traffic light to turn green – isn't that funny? Why would we use a green light instead of a white one ? And the little man isn't really walking sometimes. I wish you were here already so you could explain it to meme why. Thinking of that made me sigh again.

By the time I was finished with my story, Carol had watery eyes and a smile plastered on her face. Her daughter, trotting over, asked her why we were both crying; she just said, "Molly, say hi to Brittany, she's visiting Paris and she's missing her friend, so she is sad." Molly looked at me funny; she whispered, a little too loud,

"Mom is sad too sometimes when my other mom goes on a trip, but she always says she's ten times happier to see her when she comes back." Looking down at her shoes, she mumbled, "I wish she wouldn't go either, though." Then sShe stood on her tiptoes to kiss me on the cheek before returning to her games.

It was getting late and I had to come back, my dad had sent me two more messages asking me when I was going to be home. I thanked Carol and she gave me her email address, making me promise to tell her when we visit and that she was dying to meet you. She made me promise to email her tonight too, to tell her I made it back to my uncle's okay.

The ride back home in the subway was quiet and I was lost in my thoughts, trying to organize all the things that happened to me during the day in my head.

There's so many things you need to see, San, but now you also have people to meet – we have friends to visit. I also want you to see what our life could be – not necessarily in Paris, but as a couple, us, together. A grown-up life. I know you're still afraid, and I think it would reassure you to see them so happy because I'm sure we'd be happy too, at least as happy as Carol, and I don't think I ever met someone so happy in my life.

A guy rolled a speaker onto the subway car and played Stevie Wonder's "I Just Called To Say I Love You." I immediately checked the time and counted back seven hours. You were definitely awake by then. You answered my text so quickly I wondered if you'd been staring at your phone waiting for it to ring.

_I have so many things I need to tell you. I've been walking all day by myself in the city, it's beautiful. Want to hear all about it on Skype in 20?_

_- Oh my god B, what were you doing all by yourself? Is it safe? I'm already logged on Skype, waiting for you to come online. Be careful please, I miss you. Talk to you in a bit, I can't wait_

_- (if you're not online in 21 minutes I'm calling on your uncle's landline)_

I smiled as I typed a quick answer: _don't worry San I got this, talk to you in a few!_ You worry too much. It doesn't matter how many times I tell you everything's all right; you keep on worrying even though I know you know that I'm fine. But that's also one of the reasons I love you so much.

I felt a little lighter than this morning with the promise of seeing your face, even through a screen, in just a couple of minutes, my head full of stories and new places.

Only eight more days and I'll be away from Paris and back with you – that is, until next time.


End file.
